


Queen of the Underworld

by RunWithWolves



Series: 10MoreDaysofCreampuff [3]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: 10moredaysofcreampuff, F/F, Gods AU, Hades and Persephone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Carmilla wanted was to be left alone, figuring that down in the underworld no-one would dare bother the Lord of the Dead. She was right. The goddess of spring certainly hadn't meant to bother anyone, all Laura wanted was a little adventure. </p><p>And she certainly hadn't meant to accidentally get herself kidnapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen of the Underworld

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a huge mythology nerd. This was inevitable.  
> here's hoping others like myths just as much as I do!

Laura was itchy. There was something blossoming under her skin that she couldn’t quite figure out, couldn’t quite touch. It was slowly driving her insane. Wondering what it was, trying to let it out. It had been slowly building for years on end until she felt it might drive her to the brink if she didn’t find a way to scratch it. 

She was trying to let it out in her work. 

To little success.

Laura looked down at the flower in her hand. There was a vaguely shaped red ball of petals on a long thin stem. But she couldn’t get it to open. Couldn’t get it to look right. The whole thing seemed too shiny. Oddly incomplete but she just couldn't put her finger on what it needed to all come together. 

It had been a while since she’d come up with a new species. 

She tossed it to the side with a sigh, watching as it tumbled to the ground. 

Ignoring the itch, she focused on her powers. Feeling the burst and bloom as the field around her erupted into colour. Small violets coating the ridge, daffodils lurking on the edges, a poppy or two for colour, and an assortment of dandelions. 

She’d go to her immortal grave saying they weren’t weeds. If the goddess of spring didn’t get the final say on flowers, she didn’t know who did. 

“Nice work, Hollis,” she looked up to see Danny striding over the hilltop, bow on her shoulder.

She shrugged, the itch returning with nothing else to focus her attention on.

Danny didn’t seem to notice her displeasure, “I was thinking that we could head over to Alberta when we’re done here. There are rumours that someone saw this golden stag there? I want to get down and check it out before Kirsch can snag it. Figured you could start throwing flowers around there too,” Danny picked one of the violets from her field, and frowned at it, “why is the center of this flower lime green?”

Laura stared at it, the odd colour combination making the itch a little less prominent, “You ever feel like you want to do something else?” Laura asked at last, “Try something new and daring?”

Danny’s smile felt patronizing rather than friendly, “Like change the colour of flowers?”

“More like,” Laura said, “see new places, meet new people, do something crazy. You and Kirsch and everyone are always running around on adventures. Rescuing maidens. Fighting in wars. I’m stuck here.”

The goddess of the hunt actually laughed at her, “You do flowers, Hollis. You’re not exactly adventuring material.”

Laura crossed her arms and felt the pout erupt across her lips, “Flowers are amazing. And I don’t just do flowers, it’s all spring. That’s more than flowers you know. Besides, who cares. I can go on adventures if I want. I’ve got questions. Doesn’t something feel wrong to you? LIke something’s going on? I want to find out what it is.”

Now it was Danny’s turn to sigh, “Your father is never going to let-”

Laura whirled on her, “Don’t you dare bring my father into this. He does not know everything. Just because I don’t sit on Olympus doesn’t mean that I can’t make my own decisions. I don’t know what he expects. He might be happy to stay out things and sit in a field of corn all day but that’s not me.”

Danny’s hands were in the air, which would have been non threatening if it hadn’t brought her closer to her bow, “Look, Laura. Just come with me on the stag hunt. That’ll be an adventure all on its own. I’ll let you hold my quiver. Maybe we’ll see Kirsch and I can whip his music loving butt. Plant a few flowers. You know those fields could use some colour. After all, it’s not like it matters where you grow them.”

Laura clenched her fist. Of course it mattered where you grew the flowers. You couldn’t just drop them anywhere. There was a skill to it. That would be like dropping a venus fly trap in the middle of Alaska. 

“No thanks,” she said instead of the rant, “you go ahead. There’s a dead area over in the valley that I want to look at.”

“I can wait,” Danny offered although her toes were tapping. 

“Nope.” Laura’s answer was clipped. “Go ahead.” She forced a weak style, “maybe you’re right. Stag hunting and adventures aren’t really my thing.”

Danny started backing away, eager to get the jump on the stag, “Probably for the best, Laura. You’re great here. And it’s pretty safe.” She waved and headed off, “say hi to your Dad for me.”

As Danny sprinted away with supernatural speed, Laura turned to head down the valley, “just hold the quiver,” she mumbled, “seriously.”

As she stepped, small flowers popped up behind her, leaving a trail of colour. She smiled slightly as they danced around her feet, dandelions and clover mixed in like a blanket. Stopping, she stooped down to run her fingers through the plants. They were all the same to her, it was only humans who insisted on labeling some as weeds. 

Although the clover did had a propensity not to play nice.  
She’d have to give it another talking too about sharing space. 

As she went to stand, something glinted in the valley as though someone had placed some kind of hard black stone in the middle of her flowers. She scowled. This was one of her fields. She didn’t have many but whenever she found a favourite spot, she claimed it. Free to decorate in absurd colour combinations that lessened the itch. 

A testing ground of sorts. 

This was one such favourite. A deep valley, falling well below sea level as the depths of the earth seemed to meet the sky. Danny may have called it safe but the allure to Laura was the feeling of danger. As though something as though something was lurking just below the ground. 

Danny didn’t have roots. How could she really know what fell beneath?

But really, how dare someone put a rock in the middle of her field. Rocks were a challenge. Something to slowly be broken down by the gentle press of time and growth and care of the tiny plants that she cultivated on their edges. 

To think her father just chucked them out of his fields. 

Sliding further into the valley Laura went to investigate. 

Her eyes brightened when she finally caught sight of the reflection. It was no rock. Sitting in the deepest part of the valley was a shiny black chariot. Horseless.

Laura ran towards it. The chariot was unlike anything she’d seen. It was all black, a deep shining entity that seemed to be carved entirely of one rock, seamless in it’s composition. She ran her hands along the rim, marveling at how smooth the grain was. It would take her a long time and a lot of persistence to grow anything on something as smooth as this. 

Pausing for a moment, she hopped into the bed of the chariot. Looking around to see if she could determine the owner who had apparently left it in the middle of her field. But nothing looked familiar. It definitely wasn’t human but the spiky designs in the stone were not familiar to her. Vaguely, she thought they somewhat resembled a design she’d once seen on Olympus the one time she’d convinced her father to allow her to go. 

The design had been different, significantly more lightning in Will’s designs, but something of the pattern echoed the same feeling. Perhaps this belonged to the sea goddess, she’d never met William’s sister but it was a fair assumption that their motifs would run in the same vein. 

She ran her fingers softly over the etchings, admiring the design. 

Then she nodded. If she couldn’t get a real adventure than this mystery would have to do. So Laura curled up on the back bench, wrapping her arms around a helmet that couldn’t figure out where else to put, and relaxed. 

If she fell asleep, the owner would surely wake her, if only to yell.

#

As much as Carmilla hated making the long trip to the surface and being forced to see the indignity of her brother calling himself ‘King of the Gods’, there was something nice about seeing things that were alive for a change. 

Although the sun was a bit much. 

Kirsch dropped her off at the valley, his golden chariot shining directly into her eyes as he rushed off to go snag some stag before Lawrence did. Fine. The sooner he got his sunshine out of her face, the better. 

Still, the valley always calmed her. While there were several entrances to the Underworld, this one was by far her favourite. The valley was always coated in flowers, tipped from end to end in colour that was so vibrantly alive. 

And vibrantly unique. 

Carmilla didn’t surface often but enough to know that this valley was special. The flowers like something she’d never seen before. She bent down, a tulip catching her attention, half the flower swathed in a thick black that bleed through to a vibrant yellow. 

Someone was getting more creative. 

With a gloved hand, she tucked the flower in her pocket. The yellow the only colour in her all black ensemble. 

Lord of the Dead. Goddess of the Underworld. She had to live up to the name. 

Carmilla took her time heading back to the chariot, dilly-dallying where she knew no-one could see and bending forward to letting her hand drift over the flowers, the gloves keeping her from really touching. 

Something red caught her eye. A flower uprooted, lying on the ground. Carmilla paused, staring at the bright bloom. Slowly, she removed her glove. After all, if it was uprooted then… it was already dead. She reached for it, hand pausing over the stem. Then she grabbed it. 

For a moment her skin brushed the smooth life of the flower. 

Then it withered in her hand. Red petals curling into a black mess and the stem shriveling to dust. Recoiling, Carmilla slammed her glove back on, stalked over to her chariot, opened a hole in the ground, and drove away. 

Dirt sealing the sun and flowers away from her.

#

She was… moving?

Laura’s eyes were still closed as she blearily took in the small rush of air over her face. That had to be wrong. Probably just a breeze. She focused harder, her ears picking up the roll of wheels are over hard rock. 

Then the ground jolted and she was thrown from her perch on one of the benches to the bottom of the chariot. She scrambled for something to hold onto, terrified that she’d fall out of the back of the moving vehicle. 

Her fingers grabbed something warm covered in fabric and she squeezed tightly, yanking herself back up to the top of the chariot. 

She could see the road whirling past the ends of her feet, all dark stone and shadows. 

Where in the world was she? Then, thing she was using to hold herself in place moved. She released it instinctively, only to grab back on when she started sliding again. This time the warmth made sense and her cheeks coloured. She was grabbing a leg. 

The owner of the chariot.

Who had apparently kidnapped her. 

Laura’s head jerked back, looking up until she met the eyes of the person whose leg she was currently clinging to.Her breath caught and a tiny flower bloomed to life in the small patch of dirt she’d put in her pocket. This girl was beautiful. All pale skin and dark hair and a fierce delicacy that Laura suddenly found herself wondering how to present as a flower. 

Her eyes swooped her the girl’s face. Tracking a cut jawline, a small nose, high cheekbones. Something with layered petals.Swirling around each other. Very full but each petal thing. Vertical but with a slight curl back. 

She only noticed the girl’s expression when it changed, dropping from shock to blankness. Completely removing Laura’s ability to read her face. 

The flower she was creating halted mid thought. 

Which of course brought Laura to the question she should have started with. “Who are you?”

The rasp that was the girl’s voice was unexpected in the best way. The tone, less so, “It’s my chariot.” she said, “who the hell are you and why are you here?”

Rude but the girl had a point, “Laura,” she said, “and I was in the chariot because I was waiting for you.”

The girl’s eyebrows rose, “Waiting for me?”

“Not you specifically,” Laura corrected, “waiting for whoever owned the chariot. Because it was in my valley and I’d never seen it before so I really really wanted to find out what it was because this stone is just incredible. So I figured that I’d just wait until the owner came back and then I could ask them all about it. I’ve never seen rock this before. It’s so weird. And that carving. Never seen that design before.”

Suddenly Laura realized that she was still clinging to the girl's leg. Awkwardly, she grabbed at the front of the chariot, falling slightly as she tried to adjust to standing. She would have tumbled back to the floor had the girl not caught her. Gloved hands placing her own on the railing running the edge of the chariot. 

“You’re not the brightest,” the girl said, “are you, cutie?”

Laura frowned, “I am perfectly intelligent, thank you very much.”

“Because hiding away in strange chariots is just the epitome of logical thinking,” the girl said. 

“I wasn’t hiding,” Laura objected, “I was waiting for you to get back and I fell asleep. Actually, why didn’t you just wake me up and tell me to get out? Seriously what’s going on here.” Laura thought for a moment, “oh my gods, you’re totally kidnapping me aren’t you? You so are. That’s the only reason you’d have for not waking me up. You’re kidnapping me and taking me to your layer to like use my bones for soup or something. Are you a cyclops? Maybe you’re a cyclops. I’ve never met a cyclops but my father says that’s what-”

“Cutie,” the girl interrupted, “Stop talking. It’s annoying.”

“Not if you’re kidnapping me!” Laura blazed ahead, “I’m not just going to roll over and play dead you know. Everyone always thinks oh, Laura will be so easy to capture. Oh, Laura can’t handle herself in a fight. Oh, Laura’s only good for making things look pretty.” She glared at her captor, “But I can totally take you.”

The girl rubbed her forehead, “Well you’re certainly doing the best job yet of nearly killing me. I don’t think anyone’s ever tried talking me to death before. It’s more annoying than I’d anticipated.”

“Well, then good!” Laura said, “And I’ll keep going unless you unkidnap me!”

“I didn’t kidnap you,” the girl growled, “I didn’t even know you were here. Believe me, I have no interest in having chatty wood sprites running around.”

Laura scoffed, “Firstly, not a fairy. Secondly, oh please. How in the world could you not see me? It’s not like I’m that short.”

The girl thought for a moment, eyes roaming the chariot. Laura took the moment to squint at the front of the chariot which appeared to be moving on its own. Then something flickered in her vision, it took her a moment but yes, those were totally ghost horses.

“The helmet,” the girl said at last, “were you touching the helmet?”

“Yeah,” Laura said, “I had my hands curled up inside it. So?”

The girl sighed, snatching the helmet with one hand and plopping it on her head. She immediately winked out of existence. 

Laura’s jaw dropped. Then it promptly closed when the girl took the helmet off again and smirked at her, “Helmet of invisibility, sweetheart.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Laura nodded slowly, “sooooo, maybe you didn’t kidnapped me.”

“You think?” the girl muttered. 

“So,” Laura decided to ignore the sass in favour of getting out, “if you could just turn this here chariot around. That’d be great. I’ll be on my way.”

The girl snorted, “I wish, sundance. Where do you think you are? It’s not like I can just pull a u-turn.”

Laura took a look around. Everything was dark, the only brightness extending from the single muted lamp flickering on the bottom of the chariot. Slowly her eyes adjusted, making out shadowy shapes in the corners of her vision. A tunnel. They were in a tunnel. She frowned, leaning forward to peer just over the edge of the chariot. A hand grabbed at the scruff of her necking, keeping her from tumbling as she leaned further. 

“Gods, cutie,” came the groan. “Show a little self preservation.”

Laura was too busy staring. The ground beneath the chariot wasn’t ground at all. It swirled a bubbling white river of frothing nothingness. Not water but curling ghosty figures glowing white as they rolled and churned like ways while the horses ran atop them. The chariot and waves flowing together down the tunnel.

A tunnel with dark walls pulled by spirit horses over a bed of souls.

Laura’s jaw dropped and she turned slowly back to the girl.

The smirk seemed a little uncalled for as the girl rolled her eyes and said, “Ding ding. It finally clicks. We have a winner.”

Then the river simply cut away and Laura let out a shriek, knuckles white on the chariot. But they were soaring. The soul river pouring off a high waterfall as the spirit horses continued to beat a tread through the windless air. A light pulsed over the view below them, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once, casting the world below in a shadowy, incandescent glow. 

There were fields, seemingly endless fields off to her right, devoid of colour but even from here her powers could pick up the sloping hills of grass. Something bright shone off in the distance, too bright for Laura to make out what she was looking at. And to her left, shone something heavy, orange and menacing that simultaneously drew her in and pushed her away. 

Rivers pick-pocketed the land. Twisting and curling over the landscape. At this distance, Laura couldn’t tell if they were made of souls or water. 

“This.” Laura said, “This is the underworld.”

“A+ investigation skills,” the girl said. 

“And you’re,” Laura snapped then faded as the implication really hit, “you’re…”

The small bow the girl gave her was anything but sincere as she shot Laura a wicked grin. She clearly knew her own reputation, “Lord Karnstein. Carmilla. God of the Dead.” Then the grin faded to a grimace, “and apparently, your new roommate.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't tell you how much I love turning myths on their head and the Hades/Persephone story was just begging to be redone so... 
> 
> This series only exists because of your amazing comment, kudos and [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/). You've all been so amazing and I'm ridiculously and continually flabbergasted by the strength and kindness of this fandom and it's creampuffs
> 
> This is the third story of '10 More Days of Creampuff' where I'll be posting a Carmilla fanfic chapter every weekday for 10 days as a thank you to the fandom for supporting my writing and helping me get published. 
> 
> Stay stupendous, Aria


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